


Deskwork

by Psychicsniper



Series: Hate [1]
Category: Psycho-Pass
Genre: Biting, F/M, Non-Consensual, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, Non-Consensual Touching, Pain, Physical Abuse, Restraints, Sadism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-15
Updated: 2014-12-15
Packaged: 2018-03-01 14:19:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2776151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Psychicsniper/pseuds/Psychicsniper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shimotsuki Mika has had a rough evening, and has stayed late to do paperwork. Tougane Sakuya has decided she needed company.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Deskwork

**Author's Note:**

> This is REALLY non-con. If you're sensitive to non-con or intimidation, then please press the back button.
> 
>  
> 
> This might be considered a prequel to "Hate". I might combine them... but for now, it's here.
> 
> I'm also using some Japanese... Kanshikan is Inspector, and Shikokan is Enforcer.
> 
> Enjoy, you little sadistic psychopaths~

            Shimotsuki Mika sat at her desk, and stared intently at the bright screen of her computer terminal. No one was in the office, Ginoza Nobuchika and Kunizuka Yayoi’s shifts just ended and she assumed Tsunemori Akane was out with Hinakawa Sho and Tougane Sakuya. During the pursuit an hour prior, their target ran in front of a bus and was struck and killed. She closed her eyes, only to see the mangled body of the woman tangled in the wheels of the bus behind her eyelids. Mika’s eyes shot open and she sighed heavily, and then started typing:

            “At 21:45, the suspect, Morinaga Masako, was running north in the alley between the abolition block and the east-most side of the Kanamioji mass-housing blocks. Suspect was wearing a black coat and black trousers. Inspector Shimotsuki and Enforcers Ginoza and Kunizuka were 20 meters behind the suspect. Previous scans of the suspect presented her crime coefficient at 278.”

            She stopped cold as the man entered the office, and stood silently beside her desk. She defiantly kept looking straight ahead at her computer screen, “Shikokan, Tsunemori-kanshikan is not here. I’m assuming she is out with Hinakawa-shikokan. Perhaps you should contact--”

            He swiftly stood behind her, laced his fingers in her hair and snapped her head back, “I know she isn’t here, Kanshikan,” he murmured into her ear.

            The strain of her skin and muscles against her larynx strangled her voice and she let out a pitiful squeak. He yanked on her hair again and she let out another agonized squeak. “Finish your paperwork tomorrow.”

            He loosened his grip on her head to let her reply. “This is an incident report. We had an accidental death and this cannot wait until tomorrow,” she said, inwardly praising her characteristic by-the-book operating procedures.

            “You’re running a fever, Kanshikan,” his lips ghosted over her ear.

            Chills ran up her spine as his warm breath danced down the side of her neck. It had only been a day since he and his mother exposed the true face, or lack thereof, of the Sibyl System, and she had become extremely weary of being alone with him. One might even say, frightened by him. “I-I’m fine Shikokan, I don’t have a fever.”

            “Mother won’t care about your report. Say you have a fever, leave a note for Tsunemori-kanshikan and excuse yourself,” He bit her neck, strong enough to bring pain, but light enough not to bruise.

            With a yelp, she winced and pulled away from his teeth, only to be yanked by the hair again. “Why do I need to leave? Do you need my terminal? You could just say so, and I’ll let you use it,” she pleaded, voice strangled and weak.

            “This isn’t about ‘need’. This is about ‘want’,” he responded, once again ghosting his lips over the pinna of her ear.

            “What do you want?” she replied, almost immediately regretting her rude tone.

            He placed his hand on her left thigh, and slowly, agonizingly, moved it up her thigh. Her eyes went wide and she started to shake as his fingers dipped between her legs and he massaged her through her trousers. She grabbed his hand and pulled it away from her body. “Stop, please,” she begged.

            He grabbed her wrists and pinned them behind her back, then pulled handcuffs from his back pocket and cuffed her wrists. He spun her around in the chair and undid her belt and trousers and pulled them around her knees. “Stop!” her voice squeaked.

            He pulled her lower body forward, until she was slouched in the chair. “Stop, please, I promise, I won’t tell anyone!”

            He ignored her pleading and pulled her pink panties down, and buried his lips in her dark curls and lapped at her sensitive skin. She started to cry as he pressed two fingers into her. She tried to wriggle away from his touch, as tears fell upon her lap. He bit her clitoral hood, and she jerked. He clamped his hand over her mouth to stifle her screams in reaction to the pain. "Stop screaming," he said with a slightly muffled voice, as he looked up at her. 

            She nodded and swallowed hard. Tears were streaming down her cheeks as she reluctantly submitted. He curled his fingers inside her as she whimpered, “Stop, please. I promise, I haven’t told anyone, and I promise I won’t. Just please, stop.”

            He bit the inside of her thigh as he pulsed his fingers inside her. She felt the skin give way beneath his teeth, and she bit her lip to hold back yet another scream. She couldn't scream, someone would hear. She knew how this would look. An enforcer between her legs would be the end of her career if anyone saw them, but she knew it wouldn't be just her career at stake. 

            He heard the obnoxious ‘ding’ of the elevator, and he quickly redressed the young woman and released her from the restraints. He licked what little lubrication she had provided off his lips and turned her around. He stood and sat at his desk, just as Akane and Sho walked into the office. “Tougane-san, aren’t you off duty?” she asked.

            He made eye contact with Mika, “Shimotsuki-kanshikan does not look well, and I wanted to help her with the paperwork for the incident earlier. We were discussing what happened, so I could write it for her.”

            Mika was pale and shaking, her eyes were red and her hair was a mess. “The inspector on scene must file the report, Tougane-san, so you cannot do it for her,” Akane turned to Mika, “He’s right, you don’t look well, Shimotsuki-san. I can have the report tomorrow. You should go home.”

            “In that case, I think I’ll go, unless you need me, Kanshikan,” Sakuya said as he stood and straightened his suit.

            “Please go get some rest, Tougane-san,” Akane replied.

            “Goodnight,” he said as he walked out the door.

            Mika looked down at her trousers and discretely zipped and buttoned them, then stood abruptly and grabbed her bag and jacket, “Goodnight,” she barely squeaked as she quickly left the room.

            Akane's eyes tracked Mika as she hurried out of sight.

 

            As Sakuya turned the corner to return to his dormitory, Saiga Jouji blocked his path. A sickening smirk painted itself across Sakuya’s face as he stepped aside to continue his journey.

            The young woman hurriedly turned the corner and immediately looked down at the floor as she passed the two men. Saiga knew immediately something had happened. “Is one black hue not enough, Tougane?” he muttered.

            “I don’t know, is it?” Tougane replied, as he walked away.


End file.
